Oh, the Troubles of Being Caught Under the Mistletoe
by Pineapple Pen
Summary: Sometimes, most times, Hibari really wished he had the power to explode heads with just his mind. Maybe then Mukuro would leave him alone.


**Happy Christmas! `¬`  
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**I haven't updating anything in a while, so I puked this up to remind you all that I'm still alive! I don't know how many fics I'll be able to get out these days, since I'm pretty busy with university, but I forced myself to write something for Christmas at least.  
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**Is anyone else really bummed over Reborn ending? They should totally bring back the anime, just so I can satiate my KHR needs; you know, with my beloved Mukuro and Hibari and Xanxus and Squalo, etcetera, etcetera. Yeah.  
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**Hm, I didn't know what category to put this in. It's not exactly the funniest or most romantic thing I've written, but I suppose it can pass.  
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**As if it wasn't already obvious, I don't own KHR.  
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**Oh, the Troubles of Being Caught Under the Mistletoe**

If asked later, Mukuro would tell people that he had planned it all; right from the moment he stepped through the door, spotted the mistletoe and then saw Hibari nearby, nursing a glass of water and a deep set frown that clearly accentuated how little he wished to be there. He would look whomever asked him in the eye with a smirk on his face, a chuckle on his lips and a wave of his hand and say, quite convincingly, 'why yes, that was the plan all along.'

But that would be a lie.

It was in fact mere coincidence that found Mukuro stood under the mistletoe that evening with none other than Hibari Kyoya for company. Coincidence that included the odd death threat and the brandishing of certain weaponry that had Tsuna going the most peculiar shade of purple and praying silently for the safety of his home.

Tsuna's face turned of variety of colors in the thirty seconds of watching the two of his most unpredictable Guardians. First, it turned the aforementioned purple upon spotting the shining tonfa that somehow found their way into Hibari's white-knuckle grip. Then, when the sudden realization that a very violent and potentially bloody fight was inevitably going to break out, his face changed from purple to a decidedly bizarre greenish hue that made him look like that he very much wanted to throw up. When he saw the delightfully evil smirk that was slowly crossing Mukuro's face, the green paled to a nervous yellow.

When he spotted the mistletoe, he realized that in the next few minutes or so, the shit was _definitely_ going to hit the fan. He turned red.

If it were anyone else, he would be smiling and likely chanting with the rest of the party goers in attempts to peer-pressure the two unfortunate people caught under the mistletoe into kissing. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Rokudo Mukuro and Hibari Kyoya and mistletoe or no mistletoe, things could only end badly.

The only redeeming factor of the situation for Tsuna was that everyone seemed to share his misgivings and had stopped themselves from forcing the two to mesh mouths – though that was probably because Haru, the only one who didn't seem to sense the bitter rivalry between the two, was in the kitchen with Kyoko, making more Christmas cookies, as if they didn't already have enough.

It wasn't his idea to hold a Christmas party, at his own home no less, but Reborn had insisted. Something about 'being a good host is essential if you want to become Neo Vongola Primo, stupid Tsuna.' The argument that he really didn't want to become Neo Vongola Primo, Vongola Decimo, _whatever_ held no factor in the argument and therefore, by default, Reborn got his own way. With the help of the girls, the house was aptly decorated, the food was cooked (though it was hell trying to distract Bianchi enough to get it all done without her help) and they had managed to gather pretty much everyone Tsuna had met in the past year or so.

Mukuro was there because Chrome was there – though Tsuna suspected he really came just to mess with everyone – and Hibari was there because...well, Tsuna really didn't know why Hibari was there, or how Reborn had managed to convince him to come. Whatever the case, they were both there, and they were both standing under the mistletoe. In hindsight, Tsuna realized that he really should have made sure that there was no way for them to interact at all.

If anyone was to blame for the predicament, it was probably (definitely) Mukuro. After all, he was the type of person who saw an irresistible opening and took it with a smile on his face and a playful laugh. It was only natural that he would follow Hibari around the room like a parasite, feeding off his anger and irritation as if they had the same effect as pleasure narcotics; taking every moment he could with the prefect to tease and torment him, making sure to chuckle his 'kufufu' whenever he could, just because he knew it made Hibari's skin crawl in aggravation.

He looked up for one moment and blinked at the mistletoe that hung over them. 'Well, isn't that interesting,' he mused, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head.

His comment, irrelevant to what Mukuro had been saying – a one-sided conversation really – prompted Hibari to look up, and he started accusingly at the plant that was taped to the wall like it was watching them, laughing at them. You got caught in my trap, idiots, now you've gotta kiss and you've gotta do it with everyone watching, and _everyone_ is watching. Hibari glared at it, as if it really were mocking him, and then leveled his sharp gaze at Mukuro.

'I'm not kissing you,' he felt the need to say.

And just like that, the opportunistic Mukuro spotted an opportunity.

An astute grin curled its way to his lips and his mismatching eyes glinted in sheer amusement about what he was surely going to make happen. Because along with being the type to spot and take advantage of terribly enjoyable situations, he was also the type to create them, even at the cost of his own supposed heterosexuality (thought that in itself had always been debatable.)

As if sensing what was going on through Mukuro's arguably fatuous head, Hibari's scowl deepened and he somehow managed to pull out his tonfa from God-knows-where – which just so happened to be the very moment Tsuna finally realized they were standing in close enough proximity for probable murder and began his rainbow facial theater. It was also the same moment that Mukuro decided that he was going to get Hibari Kyoya to kiss him.

'I'm not going to kiss you,' Hibari said again, just in case Mukuro didn't get it the first time.

'Oya, I'm offended, truly I am,' Mukuro mourned playfully, holding a gloved hand to his heart (or lack thereof, some would say.) 'And here I was hoping that you would do me the honor.'

Hibari glared and he flicked his eyes past Mukuro to the exit, where he had been heading one he realized that Mukuro was stalking him. In any other situation, he would have jumped at the opportunity to sharpen his skills by means of full out attacking the irritating illusionist, but an agreement with the Arcobaleno held him back. He had settled for seething in almost silence, fingers curling and one of his eyebrows twitching a mile a minute. The _last_ thing he needed was to be trapped under the mistletoe with the person he hated, said person blocking the only way out.

'Move out of the way, herbivore, or I'll bite you to death,' he growled. He liked to think he was good at keeping his word – his mother had raised him to respect his promises, so he considered himself to be quite honorable. Right now, however, he was seriously considering going against his own principles, breaking his promise not to start a fight, and biting the bastard to death. Every cell and membrane in his body was practically vibrating with the urge to tackle Mukuro and acquaint his prized twin tonfa with his pineapple head.

The way Mukuro's grin widened made Hibari's blood curdle. 'I don't think I will,' he drawled. 'Well, unless you kiss me of course.'

The look Hibari gave Mukuro could have made babies cry, could have made the snow stop and the rain start, could have wilted pretty flowers in the park, etcetera, etcetera. His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, nose scrunched up as if the mere thought of touching lips with Mukuro would give him a disease, a fatal one at that – one that would shrivel his organs, dry up his blood and send him to the floor in convulsions and spasms, rot his eyes from their sockets and make his flesh drip from his bones.

Perhaps an exaggeration, but Hibari didn't want to find out.

'Didn't you hear me, herbivore?' he seethed, trying and failing to keep his temper in check. 'I said I'm not kissing you.'

A part of him knew that Mukuro had listened to him and just didn't care, and another part of him realized that he wasn't going to get out of this with just words, especially with the way Mukuro cocked his head and stretched his grin to reveal a row of white glinting teeth in a way that said 'I'm in the mood to play, humor me.' Hibari, by all means, was in no mood to...play.

'Did you know that in its natural form, mistletoe is poisonous,' Mukuro hummed, peering up at the plant and completely ignoring Hibari's annoyance. He was clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.

Hibari scoffed. 'Why don't you eat it and give me a demonstration?' he snarled, wondering to himself if it was completely over the top to use the window to leave the Christmas party he didn't even want to go to in the first place.

'If I eat it, will you kiss me?'

It took all of the self-control in Hibari not to groan aloud in frustration. 'I'm not going to kiss you, Rokudo,' he snapped, clenching his fingers tighter around his tonfa. 'So get out of my way and leave me alone.'

He wasn't expecting that to work, so he really couldn't say that he was surprised when Mukuro didn't move his herbivorous body away from blocking the door. If anything, he just made himself a little more comfortable in his spot, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with that shit-eating grin Hibari hated still lazily sprawled along his lips.

'Where is your Christmas spirit?' Mukuro argued playfully, well aware that his shift in position had made him block off the door even more. 'It's very rude to ignore mistletoe. You are obligated to kiss me. Would you really break that obligation?'

If Hibari had the power to explode heads – a power he often wished he possessed – he would definitely abuse it, especially when it came to cockroaches like Rokudo Mukuro. 'I hold no obligation to a _plant_,' he snapped half-incredulously, narrowing his eyes further. Maybe if he thought, if he tried hard enough, Mukuro's head would simply pop from the sheer intensity of his glare. It was perfectly plausible. If a girl could live off illusionary organs, if a fully grown man could be transformed into a gun wielding, bad ass baby, and if a teenager could hide insane amounts of dynamite on his person, then Hibari could damn well explode the head of his nemesis using only his mind.

Or maybe that was wistful thinking.

Mukuro flicked some hair from his face and regarded Hibari with that same taunting smirk. 'It's the rule,' he said matter-of-factly. 'You've always been fond of rules, correct?' He leaned forward a little, invading Hibari's personal space. 'Kiss me.'

Hibari leaned back with a grimace. 'No,' he growled, brow twitching.

It was then he remembered that he had legs, working legs at that, and that perhaps the situation called for him to actually use them. Mentally chiding himself for not thinking of this before, he turned to walk away, deciding that using the window to leave wasn't as over the top as he had originally suspected. After all, using windows as doors was a common occurrence for him, so he had nothing to worry about.

Well, unless Mukuro decided that he wasn't done with Hibari yet.

Hibari hated a lot of things. In fact, he had a whole mental list dedicated to what he loathed in life and, needless to say, this particular list was very, very long. Amongst the top five on his archive of all things detestable was, of course, crowds, which stood at number two. He wouldn't count himself claustrophobic, he just hated people a little more than was deemed necessary, and if he showed his hated through needless violence then, well, that was someone else's problem.

Along with crowds, he hated cowards and weaklings – they were joint number three on his list. There was just something about weak people that made his skin crawl and his fingers itch with the desire to punch them in the head. Preferably until they were bleeding.

But at the very top of his list, right up there with a number one that flashed warning signs and set off alarm bells in his head, that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end and shiver in irritation, that made his fingers twitch and clench; right at the top in big characters was 'ILLUSIONISTS.'

Now, this list did not have a physical presence, but it was quite clear in Hibari's head. If it _did_ exist, number one would be written in thick, black ink and circled once, no, _twice_ in red, with little jabs in the paper from where he had pressed down a little too hard from writing it.

As he felt illusionary vines creep up his legs and hold him in place, he was reminded of his list and just why illusionists were at the top. Hibari hated to consider himself weak to anything, but if he absolutely _had_ to admit some sort of vulnerability (which he certainly wouldn't, not even at gunpoint) then it would probably be illusions. Maybe it was because he relied more on physical fighting – battles with weapons and bailed fists and not with a click of the fingers or with just an odd thought. This was likely why Hibari found himself unable to break himself free.

The illusionary vines turned him back around to face Mukuro and clamped down on his legs, curling around each other and tying together, little blooms of lotus flowers curling out of buds. It took Hibari a moment to realize what was happening and why he couldn't move his legs, but when he did, well, he wasn't very happy.

His eye twitched and he looked up at the taller teen. 'Release me now,' he seethed, clamping down hard on his tonfa.

Grinning like the cat that had caught the canary – or in this case skylark – Mukuro once again leaned into Hibari's personal bubble, head cocked and eyes flashing in excitement. 'We are staying here until you kiss me,' he decided, watching as Hibari tried to free his legs from the confines of the vines. 'There's no point trying to escape, Hibari Kyoya. Everyone knows that you are weak to my illusions.'

He just narrowly dodged the swing of Hibari's tonfa. 'I'll bite you to death,' growled the prefect with as much venom as he could muster, hating Mukuro more with each smile, each taunt and each chuckle.

'Kufufu,' Mukuro laughed, just to make things worse. 'You know, it's not very nice of you to ignore Christmas tradition, Hibari Kyoya,' he said, lips curled and eyes half-lidded. 'So stop making this difficult.'

Hibari took another swing with his tonfa, almost loosing his balance due to being unable to move his feet. It took a moment to steady himself without having to windmill his arms, but he managed and stared darkly at the illusionist, eye twitching so hard that he wondered if he would burst a blood vessel. Even if that happened, he told himself, Mukuro probably wouldn't let up.

'You're the one who's making things difficult, herbivore,' he snapped. 'I'm not going to kiss you.' He was surprised that it needed saying, quite frankly.

'And why not?' Mukuro smirked. He held up three fingers. 'Give me three reasons.'

'You're annoying, you're male and you're_ foreign,' _Hibari listed, automatically himself for playing along. He blinked and then added as an afterthought, 'And I _hate_ you!'

The grin that curled its way onto Mukuro's face would have been terrifying to anyone else, but Hibari just found it annoying. 'That, my dear Hibari Kyoya, was four reasons,' he said easily. The vines around Hibari's feet tightened. 'So it doesn't count.'

Hibari threw one of his tonfa as hard as he could, but Mukuro saw it coming and dodged it embarrassingly easily, letting it hit the door behind him. It smashed with a resounding clang and likely made a pretty horrific dent that Tsuna would later have a panic attack over.

'Whatever game you're playing, herbivore, I want no part in it,' he snapped, pulling his feet in attempt to free them. 'Release me _now_.'

Mukuro tapped his lips with his finger and leaned in close, so close that their noses were mere centimeters apart. 'Kiss me and I'll consider it,' he drawled playfully, making sure to hold Hibari's stare with his own.

Hibari's frown deepened and he leaned back as far as the vines around his feet would allow him, wondering if screaming 'rape' would completely ruin his reputation. That particular urge passed quickly, and he was soon debating to himself the pros and cons of headbutting Mukuro. Considering his luck thus far through the day, he would likely miss and accidentally end up kissing the illusionist anyway. In that case, headbutting was certainly out of the question.

'Get it through your _thick_ pineapple head, herbivore,' he growled, punctuating his words with his darkest of glares. 'I will _never_ kiss you.'

'Pineapple?' Mukuro repeated, eye twitching and smirk stiffening. A glimmer of amusement flashed in Hibari's eyes at the reaction, but it didn't last. Mukuro caught Hibari's chin between his thumb and finger, and tilted his head up a little. 'Now, that wasn't very nice. I think you should kiss me to apologize.'

Hibari slapped Mukuro's hand away and growled, absently wondering if it were possible to brand his reply into Mukuro's forehead at such short notice. 'I will not kiss you,' he repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. His scrunched up his nose and again tried to pop his head with his non-existent mind exploding powers. 'I don't kiss fruit.'

Again, Mukuro's eye twitched and Hibari was _sure_ that the spikes on the crown of his head sharpened at the accusation. 'Well, it just so happens that I am _not_ a fruit,' he said stiffly. 'So that makes it alright, Hibari Kyoya.' He allowed himself to smirk, though it was less playful than before and a whole lot more threatening.

Maybe it was the way Mukuro was leaning over him and getting into his personal space, or maybe it was just that Hibari _really_ wanted to leave the damned party, go home and curl up with with a book, but he was seriously considering actually _kissing_ the bastard, if only to shut him up. He looked up and eyed Mukuro's lips with a suspicious frown and a glare, speculating on whether or not he was going mad for even _thinking_ about getting closer to Mukuro than he have to.

When Hibari decided that maybe kissing him would be the lesser of all the evils he was faced with, he decided that yes, maybe he was mad.

He shook his thoughts from his head. 'I will never kiss you,' he seethed, an air of finality surrounding him

Mukuro sighed, as if the whole situation was very trying for him, but his eyes were still dancing in amusement and his lips were still curled upwards at the corners. 'You are leaving me with no choice,' he said, shaking his head, like Hibari was a child to be scolded. 'If you won't kiss me, Hibari Kyoya, then I'll just have to go ahead and kiss you.'

Hibari wasn't even able to process what Mukuro had just said when he felt a hand on the small of his back, pulling him closer and fingers lifting his chin to a tilt. He should have expected it, he supposed, but when unfamiliar lips met his own, his body was shocked into stillness. His frame went stiff and his hands fell to his side in shock as his eyes widened.

It wasn't like the stories. There were no fireworks shooting off in bursts of color in the background, his legs didn't feel weak at the knees and, while there was a reluctantly pleasant light stirring in the pit of his stomach, there was no violent churning that made him want to puke up rainbows and glitter. It was just a simple kiss on the lips that didn't even last two seconds, a light pressing of mouth against mouth, but all the same it sent heat up Hibari's face, flushing his cheeks a bright red that rivaled Gokudera Hayato's storm flame.

And in an instant it was over. Mukuro pulled away, dropping his hand from the small of his back and releasing his chin, drawing back with a grin adorning his lips.

'Now, was that so bad?'

In all honesty, Hibari couldn't formulate a reply to that. He simply stared incredulously up at Mukuro, his chin still tilted up, his lips parted and blooms of red coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His arms hung limply at his side, his tonfa by his feet, though he was unsure when he had dropped them. There had been no clang to alert the drop, but maybe that was because of the blood pulsating in his ears.

Mukuro chuckled at his reaction, and that was when Hibari regained whatever senses he lost upon being mouth raped. He blinked away his blush as best he could and went to his default reaction. Grinding his teeth, he drew his fist back and took a swing, not particularly aiming anywhere, but hoping he hit anyway.

'Herbivore,' he snarled, throwing his other fist. 'How dare you?'

The illusionist had taken a step back towards the door. 'Well, my work here is done,' he said in a sing song voice. 'I think I'll take my leave now.'

Hibari growled, feeling another blush acquaint itself with his cheeks as Mukuro had the audacity to _wink_ at him before turning around and strolling away.

And the room fell silent.

Hibari hadn't realized how quiet it had been, but maybe that was because he was too busy arguing, too busy refusing to kiss, too busy _being_ kissed. Now, however, with Mukuro no longer there, he could hear just how quiet the room had become. He could feel the shocked stares and he could sense the utter surprise filling the air like a noxious gas, choking him with its disbelief. He supposed he could relate – he didn't believe it either.

Licking his lips (immediately grimacing when he had realized what he had done) he turned his head to examine the audience that had just witnessed what had transpired between him and Mukuro, a mask of indifferent annoyance covering his face. Though he had blushed – something he would later completely deny – he refused to let them see anything other than irritation on his face.

It wasn't all that difficult, because two minutes later he realized that the bastard had left the illusionary vines around his feet, still under the mistletoe, still blocking the only exit.

He stared at everyone who would probably have to leave by means of the very same exit later.

Hibari hated Christmas.

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**It feels good to finally have another fic out. I've been slacking lately, but maybe this will get me back on my feet - or maybe not. I'm not very reliable when it comes to fanfiction. -_-'**

**In any case, I hope you all enjoyed it! ^^  
**


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